You call me cold: you wonder why The marble of a mien like mine Gives fiery sparks of Poesy, Or softens at Love's touch divine. Go, look on Nature, you will find It is the rock that feels the sun: But you are blind, -- and to the blind The touch of ice and fire is one. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A LOVER'S QUARREL by ROBERT BROWNING SUMMER DAYS by WATHEN MARK WILKS CALL THE CONGO by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY MODERN LOVE: 34 by GEORGE MEREDITH THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 51. WILLOWWOOD (3) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI |